Morning Habits
by midnightcoward
Summary: Booth and Bones get into the habit of waking each other up in different ways. Pure fluff, yay! Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

*

The first time, he'd come into her home out of worry.  
She'd been working two days straight on a set of remains shipped from the Chinese government (from the Zhou Dynasty no less!), and had fallen into bed, beyond exhausted, only a few hours before.  
In the dead sleep Brennan was in, she hadn't heard her alarm, nor her cell, nor apparently her partner banging on her door. Booth let himself in with his own set of keys, a line of worry creasing his forehead. Balancing the tray of coffee he'd brought, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, calling her name softly.

Looking around the open apartment, he quickly headed for her bedroom, and pushed the door open with the flat of his palm. He'd had to bite back a groan at the image before him. His partner lay sprawled on her back, long, bare legs tangled in her sheets. Some of her bare stomach could be seen where her shirt had ridden up, one hand splayed across the white skin, while the other was thrown above her head. Her face had such a serious expression on it that Booth had to stifle a laugh. A squint, even in her sleep.

He stepped forward, the light from her blinds slicing him into light and shadow, as he set down the tray and sat on the side of her bed. He took one of the cups and held it to her delicate nose, whispering, "Bo-o-ones. Wakey, wakey…"

She let out a soft sigh and her forehead crinkled momentarily before he reached out and smoothed the line with his finger. "Bones, wake up." He brushed his fingers along the side of her cheek, and her eyes opened at last, sleepy and disoriented. "Good morning, Bones," he greeted.

"Booth?" she asked in confusion. "What time is it?"

He found it amusing that her first question was whether she was late for work, and not why he was in her bedroom. "It's 8:30 Bones. I was worried when you didn't answer your phone, or your door. Here," he held the coffee out to her again and she sat up, brushing the hair out of her eyes sleepily. She took the cup and sipped at it, leaning back against the headboard of her bed. "Thank you. I'm sorry you were worried, I must have slept through my alarm, I didn't get home until nearly five."

When he didn't answer she looked up and saw he was staring at her shirt. She looked down and a flush of color immediately swept across her cheeks. He smirked. "You said you didn't know where my FBI shirt was."

She stalled by taking another sip of coffee before replying demurely, "Well, I didn't."

He laughed, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "It sure looks like you did. Did you _lie_ to me, Bones, so you could keep my shirt?"

"What? No, of course not. You asked me if I knew where it was, and at the time, I didn't know its precise location, exactly. It could have been in my laundry, or in my drawer, or on the floor…"

"Yeah, yeah, Bones, save it. That's the squinty version of a lie."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, Booth, do you want it back right now?" She reached with the hand not cradling her coffee to grasp the hem of her shirt, beginning to lift. As much as he'd wanted her to continue, he'd stopped her hand with his own.

"You know, I would have let you have it. All you had to do was ask." His face was very close to hers now.

"Booth?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Yes?" he breathed, his hand still encircling her wrist.

"…Can I have it?"

The urge to kiss her was almost overwhelming. "Yes Bones. You can have it."

"Thank you."

*

The second time, she'd entered his home out of urgency.  
An Agent had called the Jeffersonian with a fresh crime scene, a set of remains having washed up on a beach, and they couldn't get a hold of Booth. When he hadn't answered his phone for her either, she'd flown to his house, thoughts flying with the potential evidence that was being washed away with every second that passed. And mild concern for Booth of course, though she saw no reason to worry. He'd probably just slept in, he'd been up with Parker all weekend. The child had a cold and apparently sick children don't sleep well.

After a half-hearted attempt to knock, she used her key to let herself in and marched straight to his bedroom. But as soon as she pushed open the door, all thoughts of crime scenes left her head in an instant. She had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from making some sort of noise as the sight of him caused her heart to squeeze with affection. He was on his stomach, lying diagonally across his bed, one arm hanging over the side. She'd never seen anyone sleep like that before. His face was so calm and peaceful, she almost backed out of the room to let him sleep. But there was work to do. She sank down onto the bed next to him and leaned close to his face. "Booth," she whispered, placing an arm on his bicep.

He didn't move. Brennan rolled her eyes. So much for sniper reflexes. Then again, most snipers probably hadn't been up for 48 hours with a sick child. She shook him lightly, leaning in to speak close to his ear, "Booth, it's Bones. We have a case."

Nothing.

She was on the verge of taking a pillow and smacking him with it, when she suddenly remembered something her mother used to do. She reached out with one of her long, slender fingers, and ran it down the bridge of his nose, once, twice, three times. "Bo-o-oth, it's time for school," she teased.

"Five more minutes, mom" he grunted, a smile slowly creeping across his face. She laughed as he opened his eyes to look up at her.

"Good morning, Booth," she greeted cheerfully.

"Good morning, Bones," he smiled back.

"We have a case," she explained, "and I was worried when you didn't pick up your phone."

He rolled onto his back, "Worried about me, or about the evidence being compromised?"

She grinned. "Both." He laughed and began to stretch, her eyes drinking him in hungrily. "Booth, are you naked?" she asked, a lilt of laughter in her voice.

"You tell me," he teased, waggling his eyebrows.

She reached forward and lifted the covers, peeking underneath before letting them drop back down to meet his shocked expression.

"Yes. You are." She stood. "I'll go make coffee."

*

The third time, it was revenge.  
She'd seen him naked, what; two, three times? And he'd barely seen her belly button. Not fair. Luckily for Booth, Bones was a predictable woman when it came to her morning routine. She was up by six and showered by six-thirty, so if he arrived by six-fifteen, it was a safe bet to say he might "accidentally" bump into a naked Bones. And then _he _could be the one smirking all day, like she had a few weeks ago when she'd practically ripped off his covers.

But when he snuck into her house, he didn't hear the shower running. Hm. Curious.  
He walked towards her bedroom, all the while readying himself to block a roundhouse kick, but when he opened her bedroom door the only thing to greet him was the sound of her clock-radio chattering, and the sight of her still fast asleep in bed.

She was on her stomach this time, and fully clothed by the looks of it (damn). She was wearing shorts that hugged her ass just right, and Booth figured if he couldn't annoy her by seeing her naked, he could at least annoy her by waking her up in an irritating fashion. So without further ado, he stepped forward and smacked her ass (gentle, but firm), and bellowed, "Mornin' Bones!"

She gasped and sat up like a rocket, and that's when he realized she wasn't fully clothed after all. She made no move to cover her (amazing) bare breasts as she glared at him, and he can't say that surprised him. She was never one for modesty.

"Booth, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she snarled, hurling a pillow at him.

He tried to drag his eyes from her breasts, but even as her feather pillow hit him square in the gut, he couldn't. It was like a magnetic force was pulling his gaze there and he was powerless to look away. "We have a case, Bones."

"Is the case on my chest, or can I get dressed?" she asked. He couldn't tell whether she was amused or annoyed, but he suspected both.

"No, unfortunately, it's not on your chest. It's in Virginia." He saw her eyes widen a fraction of an inch, as he knew she'd been trying to make him uncomfortable, and was surprised that she hadn't.

"I'll make some coffee," he turned to go, dragging his eyes from her breasts. "Sorry about bursting in on you, Bones," he added.

"No, you're not," she smirked, and his heart stopped at the image of her smiling at him like that, her hair mussed and her body bare before him.

He grinned.

"No, I'm not."

*

The next time it happened, it was for no reason at all.

They hadn't had a case in nearly two weeks, and things were slow at the Jeffersonian, so Brennan had decided not to work on Saturday. Instead she went for a morning jog, enjoying the feeling of the cool early spring sun on her skin. Her normal jogging route had been closed down due to a rally in front of Capitol Hill, so she'd taken a random web of streets and alleys, until she found herself a block from Booth's apartment. (How did that happen?)

She checked her watch. Nine am. He might be up by now. Maybe they could go for breakfast. She walked the last block, letting her breathing slow and the sweat on her skin dry before entering his building. She barely bothered to knock, letting her knuckles graze the wood before slipping her key into the lock. At least this way if he protested she could say she _tried_ to knock first.

She walked into his apartment, kicking off her muddy running shoes, and seeing that he wasn't up, headed for his bedroom. Her face broke into a smile as she saw him curled on his side like a little baby. Look at the big, tough, FBI Agent now, huh? Her smile quickly turned into a mischievous grin as she recalled the last time he'd entered her apartment, and how ever since she'd caught him glancing at her chest with a sort of knowing look in his eyes.

What was that expression people use? Ah, yes. Payback time.

She stood, watching him sleep, carefully debating what exactly she should do. As she was making her decision, he rolled onto his back, exposing his bare chest, and all she could think was that she wanted to run her hands across the planes of his chest so badly her body ached. She crept forward and sat beside him, and then placed her hands on his stomach. Watching his face carefully and seeing he was still asleep, she quickly slid her hands up the length of his torso, rapidly committing every inch to memory, before grasping both his nipples in her hands and squeezing.

"OW!" he yelled, sitting up so fast she was knocked onto the floor, laughing so hard tears were in her eyes.

She managed to gasp, "Morning, Booth," in between bouts of laughter as he glowered at her from the bed. Her laughter quickly became infectious and his face broke into a grin as he wrapped his fingers around her biceps and pulled her up onto the bed.

"It's Saturday," he stated, watching her wipe away a tear, her laughter slowly subsiding.

"I know. I wanted to know if you would like to go to The Diner for breakfast with me," she answered, still giggling.

"Bones, did you come over because you wanna hang out?" he asked in amusement.

She immediately stopped laughing. "No, I just happened to be going for a run and then I thought you might want to eat breakfast with me afterwards."

He smirked, "Yeah, that's hanging out, Bones."

She frowned, somewhat flustered. "It's _eating_, Booth."

He put his hands behind his head, causing his muscles to contract deliciously, and she subconsciously licked her lips. He noticed, smiling smugly. "Tell you what, Bones. Admit you want to hang out with me, and I'll go to breakfast."

She turned her nose up at him. "Fine, I'll just go eat by myself." She stood to leave but as she did so he grabbed her ponytail and pulled her back down, causing her to let out a squeal of surprise.

He pinned her arms and jeered, "Come ooon Bones, admit it!"

"No," she answered simply, her face determined.

"Okay, you asked for it," he answered, his grin causing her stomach to clench.

"I most certainly didn't ask for anyth-aaah!" Her words were cut off as he pinned her with his lower body and began to tickle her, making her shriek like she hadn't done since she was a little girl. She squirmed underneath him, trying in vain to fight him off as he relentlessly tickled her, yelling, "Admit it!"

She could barely breathe for laughing, and when she couldn't stand it anymore she yelled, "FINE, I ADMIT IT!" But he didn't stop.

"Admit what, Bones?" he asked, continuing his attack.

"I-(laugh) I-want to (shriek) – to hang out with (squeal) with you!"

He stopped, and let her up, panting and glaring at him venomously.

"That was awful, Booth," she growled.

He shrugged. "That's what you get for squeezing a man's nipples first thing in the morning. Meet you at the diner in half an hour?" he asked.

"Fine, whatever," she snarled, marching out of the room.

"Oh and Bones?" he called. She stopped but didn't turn around, her shoulders tense.

"Good morning to you, too."

*

The time after that, it was sadness.

His grandfather's health had taken a turn for the worse over the past few weeks, and Booth was feeling the weight of this on his shoulders as he trudged down the hall to her door. They were supposed to be meeting with Sweets in an hour and she (again) hadn't answered her phone. He didn't even bother to knock at all this time, as he unlocked her door and walked inside.

He needed to see her, now. And waiting for her to wake up and let him in was not a viable option. He quietly pushed open the door to her room, and there she was, curled on her side, with her arms wrapped around a pillow. He chuckled softly to himself as he approached, sitting next to her. He pushed the hair back from her face and leaned down, pressing his lips softly to her forehead. "Hey Bones, it's morning."

She sighed and put her hand on his cheek, eyes still closed. His heart skipped a beat. "Good morning, Booth." She groaned. "Do we_ have_ to see Sweets?"

He laughed gently. "I'm afraid so, Bones."

She slowly opened her eyes and sat up next to him. "Is that _another_ one of my shirts?" he asked, noticing the pale blue button up dress shirt she wore.

"Yes," she answered honestly.

"How many do you have?" he asked.

"Just the two. Oh, and one of your sweatshirts."

He laughed, "Why do you like wearing my clothes so much?"

She shrugged, her hair spilling over her shoulder. "They're comfortable. And they smell good."

"Bones are you telling me you like the way I smell?"

"Yes."

He smiled softly at her. "Booth, what's upsetting you?"

His brow furrowed, "What makes you think I'm upset, Bones?"

"You're not making fun of me for liking the way you smell."

He had to concede that. "Pops isn't doing so well."

She immediately put her arms around him, and he sank into her, reveling in her warmth. "I'm sorry, Booth. I really am."

"I know you are, Bones. Thank you."

She pulled back. "Would it make you feel better if I showed you my breasts again?"

He laughed in surprise. After a brief moment to think he replied, "Yeah, Bones. It would."

She leaned back, grinning, and popped the buttons on the shirt, holding it wide open for him to feast his eyes on. After a few seconds she closed her shirt, replacing some of the buttons, but not all. "Thanks Bones," he grinned.

"Anytime, Booth," she smiled back. "I'm going to get dressed, put on the coffee?"

"Sure," he answered, standing. "Oh, and Bones?"

"Mm?" she asked, stopped on the way to her bathroom.

"I like the way you smell, too."

She smiled. "I know."

*

The time after that, it was anger.

She stormed into his house just after six. They'd fought the night before because he'd tried to kick her off the case for being too emotionally invested. She'd kicked him out of her lab, and then ended up storming home because she was too annoyed to think straight.

She stalked across his living room and practically kicked open his door. He was sleeping on his stomach, a well muscled arm dangling over the edge of his bed. She had been so enraged she'd barely slept, and seeing him sleeping like a baby while she'd tossed and turned only annoyed her more. She grabbed the bottom of his covers and yanked them off, a little disappointed to see he was wearing boxers this time.

The chill morning air woke him in an instant. "Bones? What the hell!"

"Good morning, Booth," she snarled.

He sat up, bleary eyed, and stared at her. "What are you doing?"

"I came here to tell you to take it back!"

"What?" he asked, his head confused with sleep.

"Let me work on the case!"

"Bones," his tone was paternal, reprimanding.

She kicked off her flats and crawled across the bed towards him, predatory, and he froze as she stopped with her face inches from his. "Don't do this to me, Booth. I've worked so hard on this case. I need to see it finished."

His face softened. "Look, Bones, if I let you work this you have to make me some promises, okay?"

She sat back on her heels, intrigued but still suspicious. Her blue eyes glinted in the dark. "What kind of promises?"

He sat forward and pointed a finger at her. "That you'll eat. And sleep. And not work yourself ragged until you're about to faint from exhaustion and malnutrition. Because when you get too wrapped up in a case, that's exactly what you do." She opened her mouth to protest and he interrupted. "When was the last time you ate?"

She closed her mouth. "Exactly, Bones."

She crossed her arms. "Alright. If I promise to take care of myself will you promise to let me back on the case?"

"Yes."'

She held her hand out, "Deal."

He shook it. "Deal." She went to withdraw her hand but he held it tight. "And Bones, if you want to take care of yourself, that means you need to get some rest." He tugged her towards him and she let out a soft cry as he pulled her into bed next to him, gathering the covers she'd ripped away. "We're getting up at 8:00am," he stated, lying next to her and wrapping an arm around her waist.

To his surprise she didn't protest about any of it, instead she quietly settled against him and shut her eyes.

"Booth?" she said softly. He felt the vibration of her voice in his chest.

"Yeah Bones? He answered, his breath hot on her ear.

"I'm sorry for waking you up and yelling at you."

She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, "No you're not, Bones."

She smiled, eyes still closed. "No. I'm not."

*

And now, happiness.

He burst through her front door at just shy of six. They'd stopped calling each other before their morning arrivals. There was no point, really, since they'd both started turning off their phones at night. Neither would admit it to themselves, but it was because that way there was the hope, the excuse, to see one another first thing in the morning.

He quietly slipped in her bedroom and stopped a moment to drink in the sight of her, sprawled diagonally across the bed on her stomach, one arm dangling over the edge. He'd never seen anyone sleep like that. He chuckled and sat next to her, thinking to himself she looked good enough to eat. At the thought, he leaned down and ran his tongue along the side of her exposed jaw before whispering, "Bo-o-nes! Wake up! I have good news!"

Her eyes flew open at the touch of his tongue, and she pushed up on her forearms, looking at him incredulously. "Good morning, Bones!" he said excitedly.

She ignored his greeting. "Did you just _lick_ me?"

"Yes." Her frankness was starting to rub off on him.

"Why?"

He shrugged, "Because I wanted to see if you taste as good as you smell."

She looked up at him. "Oh."

"Anyway, guess what?"

She flopped back down and closed her eyes. "No."

"They're giving me a new office! Two floors up!"

"Thass nice," she said, sleepily, her voice muffled where she'd buried her face in the pillow.

"And guess what else!" he nudged her and she batted his hand away.

"If I didn't guess the first time, what makes you think I will now?"

"I won the lottery!"

She lifted her head at that. "You what?"

He produced a ticket which he held a half inch from her face. She squinted at it before grasping his wrist in annoyance and pulling it further back so she could see. "Booth, you won fifty dollars."

"Yeah!" he grinned. She sighed and smiled, resting her chin in her hand. "I'm taking us for a celebratory breakfast before work! Oh, and guess what else?"

"_Booth."_

"Parker won a raffle at school to go to the new 3D Imax movie about Egyptian mummies, and he wants to take you and me!"

That piqued her interest. "Really!? He nodded. "I've been wanting to see that!"

"We can go tonight, if you want. Isn't this the best start to the day, Bones?"

She smiled. "Yes, Booth. It is." She stood and pointed at the kitchen. "Coffee."

He rolled his eyes and stood, but she called him back, paused on her way to the bathroom. "Hey Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"…Do I?"

"Do you what, Bones?"

"Do I taste as good as I smell?"

He grinned.

"Better."

*

And this time, curiosity.

Ever since he'd told her she tasted good, she'd wondered how _he_ tasted. The thought had been circulating in her mind for two weeks now, plaguing her with every waking moment, and she'd decided that she had to put it to a stop. Brennan clutched the bag of his favorite bagels to her chest as she slipped inside his door, shutting it behind her.

Removing her shoes, she padded across his living room and opened his door. He was sleeping on his back, his arms slung over his head. She set the bagels down and sat next to him, her heart thumping. Where to taste? The lovely curve of his biceps seemed to call to her, and she leaned down, licking her lips in anticipation, before sinking her teeth gently into his flesh and running her tongue along his skin.

She felt his hand on her back and she released his arm, politely swiping away her saliva, before smiling at him innocently. "Morning, Booth."

"Bones, are you biting me?"

"Yes." She reached over and grabbed the bag of warm bagels, settling in beside him. "And I brought breakfast. We have a case in Bethesda."

"Aren't I the one that tells you we have a case?"

"Usually, yes, but in this case the police called Cam because the lead on it is a friend of hers." She handed him a bagel and he took it, sinking his teeth into it gratefully.

"So?" He asked over a bite of bagel.

"So what?" she asked, starting on hers.

"How do I taste?"

She smiled, cheek full of bread as she contemplated. Swallowing, she replied, "Good."

"Good? That's all I get? Good?"

She shrugged, "Well? What would you have me say?"

"I don't know, 'great' at least!"

Rolling her eyes, Brennan covered her full mouth and replied, "Fine, you taste great Booth. Fantastic, even."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They chewed in silence for a moment before Booth cut in. "Do I taste better than these delicious bagels?"

She paused, looking thoughtful, and then quickly leaned over and put her mouth on the skin of his neck, sucking gently and then releasing with a loud "pop".

"Oh, yes, much better."

He leaned over and put his mouth on her ear, causing her to gasp and drop her bagel as his warm tongue swept over it. "Hm. Yep, so do you," he offered casually.

Recovering, she picked up her bagel and replied, breathlessly, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

*

And after that, jealousy.

He slipped in her front door, not even sure if he should be there. Not even sure if she'd be alone. But he had to know. He crossed the living room and pushed open her door, steeling himself for what he might see. But she was alone. Sleeping with one arm slung over her eyes, so only her mouth was visible. He suddenly needed to see her, the urge overwhelming. He sat next to her and moved her arm away from her eyes. His touch caused her to wake, and she looked up at him, seeing the serious look on his face.

"Good morning, Bones," he whispered.

"Good morning, Booth," she whispered back. "What's wrong?" She sat up on her elbows, hair falling into her eyes. "Do we have a case?"

"No, Bones, no case."

She peered around him at her clock, squinting to see the blurry numbers. "What time is it?"

"It's early."

She sat up, his tone worrying her. "Booth, tell me."

"Is it true?" he asked, not looking at her.

"Okay, you're going to have to be much more specific, especially this early in the morning," she answered wearily.

"Do you have a date, with Hacker?"

She froze, looking at him, the hurt on his face. "Who told you that?"

"One of the Agents at the bureau. Do you?"

"You came to my house at 5:00am to ask me if I have a date with Assistant Director Hacker?"

He looked at her. "Yeah, Bones. I did."

"Booth, are you jealous?"

"Yeah, Bones. I am."

A smile spread quickly across her face. "Booth. I don't have a date with Hacker. We decided not to date anymore months ago."

His face lit up with something, she couldn't say just what. "Are you feeling better now?" she asked, smirking.

"Yeah, Bones. I am," he smiled.

"Does this mean I can go back to sleep?" she asked, leaning back against her pillows.

"Of course," he laughed. "Sorry."

"Sure you are," she rolled her eyes. "Just be glad I'm not teasing you relentlessly right now, like you'd be doing with me."

"That's why I'm glad you're so much nicer than me, Bones," he smiled, kissing her on the cheek.

She pulled him down next to her and lay her head on his chest.

"Hey, Bones?"

"Mm?"

"When did you decide not to date Hacker anymore?"

He felt her smile against his chest. "Around the same time you saw my breasts for the first time."

"Ah. Gotcha."

*

And after that, in competition.

Her breathing was heavy, cheeks flushed, as she jogged down his hallway at just after five. They'd been competing all week to see who could finish the FBI training course faster, and she'd just managed to beat his time by three seconds. She pushed open his door, nearly collapsing against it as she did, kicking off her runners before stumbling wearily to his bedroom. He was on his back again, arms stretched out on either side as she sank onto the bed next to him, her breathing finally slowing.

"Booth!" she wheezed, shaking him. She rolled her eyes, wiping the thin layer of sweat from her forehead. He didn't move. She shook him again, harder. He grunted. Finally, in exasperation, she pinched his nose shut until he snorted and coughed, sitting straight up in the process. "Good morning, Booth!" she grinned.

"Bones? What the?!"

"15:33!" she announced triumphantly.

He blinked at her, then shook his head. "No way."

"Way," she answered, remembering her lesson in response from years ago.

"Prove it!" She held out her stopwatch, revealing her time. He took it and shook his head in disbelief. "You cheated."

She gasped, horrified. "I did no such thing! Temperance Brennan doesn't cheat at anything."

"You cheated at monopoly two weeks ago."

"Board games don't count."

"Bones, you're ridiculous."

"You're just mad because I beat you at your own training course."

"You didn't _beat_ me."

She leaned back on her hands, cocky smile in place. "Then what would you call it?"

"Fine, Temperance Brennan, we're just going to have to have a rematch."

Her jaw dropped. "Booth! I'm exhausted!"

"You should have thought of that before you came and woke me up to gloat."

"I wasn't gloating, I was informing."

"Same difference."

"That sentence makes no sense. Anyway, if you do win now, it'll be because I'm tired, not because you were faster."

"Fine, then let's go back to bed and get up at a _human_ hour and we can have a fair rematch."

"But I'm all sweaty! And I'm in running clothes."

"Well pick a shirt out of my drawer, and you can towel off in the bathroom, though in my opinion girl sweat doesn't smell."

"That's gross, Booth," she wrinkled her nose and went to his drawer, taking a shirt to his bathroom to dry off. She emerged in his favorite Pink Floyd t-shirt, an innocent grin on her face. "Booth?" she asked, tugging the shirt lower over her legs, and failing.

"Yeah?" he asked, his throat dry as he watched.

"…Can I keep it?"

"My Pink Floyd shirt, Bones?!"

She raised her eyebrows at him and climbed in next to him, smiling. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer. "Yeah, Bones. You can keep it."

"…if you can beat me on the training course."

*

**A/N: I hope you liked this! It was fun to write. Let me know what you think! And if you have a particular emotion (pride, pain, remorse, joy etc) that you'd like me to add, I'd be happy to do so! Thank you so much for reading. **

**-MC**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Firstly, thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review, you're all very kind. Originally this was intended to be a one-shot, but after several requests to add more, I decided to go for it. Essentially I've taken off the last scene from the first chapter and tacked it onto the end of the second. It makes it a little choppy, but it's good enough for now! I'd like to thank **_**xxletgoxx**_** especially for encouraging me to write scenes in different locations. In any case, I hope you enjoy this! -MC  
(Oh, and as a warning, there's lot of references to Brennan's breasts in this one. Apparently I have the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy)**

*

And now, homesickness.

The door adjoining their rooms was unlocked. She pushed it open and stepped quietly inside. He'd fallen asleep with his TV on, the blue light flickering over the room eerily. Brennan shivered, goose bumps rising on her bare legs, and closed the door behind her, walking to the TV. She glanced at her partner, asleep on his side, before switching it off. The room plummeted into darkness and she staggered forward, disoriented as she tried to reach the bed. Instead, she tripped on his shoes (which he would no doubt claim were there because they'd "fallen"), swearing as she landed hard on her knees.

Suddenly the room was engulfed in light, Brennan blinking in disorientation as Booth sat up in bed. "Bones? Is it morning?" he asked sleepily, his hair flattened (adorably) on one side.

"Technically, yes," she sighed from her position on the floor, inspecting her knee, "but I don't think you would consider it to be."

He woke up a little more and realized she was talking to him from the floor. He scratched his head, "…Bones what are you doing?"

"I was…coming in to turn off your television. You fell asleep with it on, you know," she answered somewhat defensively, moving to stand. He quickly got out of bed and helped her to her feet, seeing that the carpet had scraped her knee.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sitting her on the edge of his bed as he went to his shaving kit and grabbed some first aid supplies.

"Yes," she answered, "I'm fine." He sat next to her and poured some antibacterial solution on a cotton pad.

"What were you doing up, anyway? This might sting a bit," he added, pressing the cotton to her knee. She sucked in a breath, wincing.

"I…couldn't sleep."

"How come?" he asked, cleaning away the blood.

She shrugged, watching him tend to her. "I don't know. I don't like these beds. The sheets are uncomfortable. And the traffic from the street is loud. Plus, my radiator isn't working, and the pipes in the bathroom squeak constantly."

"Bones…are you _homesick?"_ he grinned, discarding the cotton pad and opening a band-aid.

"What?" she colored, her cheeks flushing. "Booth I have traveled the entire world, alone. I've slept on piles of straw, in hovels made out of mud. I don't get _homesick._"

He applied the band-aid, eyes twinkling. "Whatever you say, Bones. But there's nothing wrong with wishing you could sleep in your own bed."

She looked at him wistfully. "I _do _miss my bed."

"And having all your books with you..." he prompted.

"And my bathtub, I would love to have a nice bath."

"And diner food!" Booth added.

"Yes! Yes, the diner. And my office. And Angela of course," she contributed.

He leaned back against the headboard, arms above his head. "I dunno, Bones, that sounds like a pretty good case of homesickness to me." He grinned at her and she moved closer to him, sighing.

"Well, if hypothetically, one did have homesickness…" she began, looking at him curiously.

"Yes…" he encouraged, eyes shining with barely concealed mirth.

"What…what does one do about it?" she asked finally.

The sight of her sitting on his bed, knees drawn to her chest in her (impossibly short) shorts, long arms bare in the tank top she wore, her hair drawn into a loose ponytail, it was all Booth could do not to grab her and kiss any thoughts of being homesick out of her head.

Instead, he leaned forward, looking at her thoughtfully. "Well, one thing that works is to list the things you _don't_ miss. That way, you can be happy that you're away from them."

"Alright," she said slowly, the wheels turning. "I don't miss…paperwork."

"Good one, Bones!"

"Thank you."

"I don't miss…DC traffic."

She shook her head, "Ugh, me neither. I don't miss having to go to therapy with Sweets!" she offered. "Though, I do kind of miss Sweets," she added.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't have to know that Bones. I don't miss having Cullen breathing down my neck while I'm at work," he replied.

"I don't miss having to argue with the Egyptology department about the use of lab equipment," she said thoughtfully.

He stifled a smile. "I don't miss my noisy neighbors waking me up at 3:00am," he said, crossing his arms across his bare chest.

Her brow furrowed. "What are they doing at 3:00am that's so noisy?"

He gave her a look. "What do you think, Bones?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh. Who has sex at 3:00am on a weekday?"

He sighed, closing his eyes. "Sometimes you just can't wait, Bones." He could feel her staring at him but when he looked up she was looking at her hands. "So? Do you feel any better?"

"Yes, a little," she said after some contemplation.

"Good," he smiled, reaching for her. She crawled towards him and put her arms around his neck, settling against him with a contented sigh. He pulled the covers over them and switched off the light, holding her against him. "Hey Bones, you know what else cures homesickness?" he asked.

"What?" she said softly, her body seeming to tense waiting for his answer.

"Buying your partner pancakes in the morning."

*

And this time, grouchiness.

He was tired.

No, he was very, very tired.

No wait, he was extremely, bone-achingly, exhausted.

Booth had been up for nearly 48 hours working non-stop on a case that they had finally managed to solve, thanks to one of Hodgins's bits of goo that had allowed them to triangulate something or other. Whatever. The case was closed, and it was time to go home and pass out on top of his covers with all his clothes on.

The only problem was, _she_ had insisted it was "her turn" to drive yesterday morning, and consequently he was being forced to wait around for her while she did some finishing touches on her paperwork. Booth paced the lab for the ninth time, interns dodging this way and that as he stalked past them. Finally, any and all patience spent, he turned on his heel and marched into her office.

"Bones! What the hell is taking you so-" he paused. She was sitting at her desk, pen in hand, completely asleep. Her forehead was resting on the hard wood of her desk, hair fallen over her face as she slept soundly, no doubt drooling on the last of the paperwork. Normally, he would think she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, and somewhere beneath the layer of sleep-deprived grouchiness, he did. But mostly, he was just so damned tired he was about to fall over.

"Bones!" he said loudly, rapping his knuckles on her desk. She started and her bottom lip smashed against the edge of the desk, causing her to cry out in pain.

"Ow! Booth!" she said through the fingers she'd clamped over her throbbing lip. "What the hell is your problem?!"

He felt bad, but he immediately went defensive instead. "My problem is I've been waiting to go home for 45 minutes because you decided to have a nap, and I'm exhausted!"

She glared at him. "I didn't 'decide' to fall asleep, Booth, I'm exhausted too! If you don't recall, I've been up 14 hours _longer_ than you, and I was trying to get this paperwork done so that you wouldn't have to come in tomorrow and do it! That doesn't mean you have to give me a bloody lip!"

She brought her fingers away from her mouth, licking her lips as she checked her fingers for blood. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Bones, I'm really sorry. I'm an ass. I'm just –"

"Tired, yes, you've said," she spat, scowling at him.

He knelt down in front of her, his hands on her knees. "Let me see," he asked, reaching for her chin.

She pulled away, "No, don't. I'm fine. You want to go home, right? So let's go."

His heart ached. "Bones, please, I said I was sorry okay? Just let me see it."

Her face softened and she said nothing, but she didn't protest when he took her chin in his hand and pulled her face close to his. Her lip was swollen and a little red. "I'm sorry, Bones," he repeated.

"It's fine, it was an accident," she said gently.

"Should I kiss it better?" he asked, teasingly.

"Booth," she snorted, "don't be ridiculous. Kisses don't have healing powers."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, moving his mouth close to hers.

He could feel her breathing increase. "Yes," she panted.

"You willing to bet on it?"

"You're a degenerate gambler," she whispered.

He brushed his lips gently against hers, pressing softly, barely allowing her time to close her eyes and lean into him before he was pulling away.

"How about now? Any better?" he asked, still close enough that his breath mixed with hers.

"…Actually, yes," she replied in surprise. "Remarkable. Perhaps I'll have to conduct more research on the matter."

It was his turn to be surprised as she stood abruptly, and grabbed her jacket.

"You coming?" she threw over her shoulder as she walked out of her office.

He stood slowly, not trusting his legs at first before muttering, "Choice of words, Bones."

*

And boredom.

"Hey, Bones."

Booth glanced at his partner, asleep in the seat next to him. The rain pounded loudly on the roof as they sat in the car, nothing but fields of corn visible on all sides. They were in Maryland, parked on the side of the highway as they waited for a tow truck. Booth's FBI-issue SUV had apparently taken one too many turns up on two wheels, and the right front tire had gotten a flat on their way home from a case.

"Bones," he said louder, pushing at her shoulder gently.

"No," she replied, batting his hand away.

"Bones, wake up! I'm bored."

"And that is my problem, why?" she asked, settling against the car door with her arm as a pillow.

"Because we're gonna be here for a while, and you're my partner, it's your job to keep me from dying of boredom."

She snorted, "I'd like to see where it says that in my job description."

He glowered at her. "Right next to where it says, 'be a pain in the ass as much as possible'."

Her arm shot out and struck him in the shoulder, though she never even opened her eyes. "OW!" he shouted, rubbing his aching arm. "See? Right there Bones. Pain in the ass."

"That was your arm, not your ass."

He rolled his eyes, "Okay, never mind Bones. You know what? You go back to sleep, I'll be just fine."

She grunted.

He shifted in his seat. Sniffed. Shifted again. Coughed. Shifted. Sighed loudly. Shifted.

"STOP."

"Oh, you're awake!"

Brennan groaned and opened her eyes, giving up. "I hate you."

"For waking you up?"

"That, and for being the only FBI agent in the world who doesn't keep a spare tire in his truck."

"Bones, I'm doing you a favor, it's not good for you to sleep too much during the day, it throws off your sleep patterns."

"Whatever, Booth," she sighed.

"No it's true, Bones," he insisted. "Double blind studies have shown that-"

"I will give you a thousand dollars if you can tell me what a double blind study is."

He paused. "Duh, Bones, it's when two blind guys, well, two blind _scientists_-"

"Okay, I will give you a thousand dollars if you don't finish that sentence."

"Touchy, aren't we?"

"Maybe I wouldn't be if someone let me _sleep_."

"Let's play truth or dare."

"Fine, I dare you to be quiet."

He scowled at her. "You're sucking the fun out of truth or dare."

She sighed dramatically. "Truth."

He grinned. "Do you think I'm attractive?"

Her eyes flew to him. "Right now? No."

He pushed her and she flapped a hand at him. "Seriously, Bones, do you think I'm hot? Yes or no?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine. Yes. I think you have…certain attributes that I find to be sexually alluring. Happy now?" He smiled smugly. "Never mind, I can see that you are. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you think about me while you masturbate?"

"BONES!"

She grinned maliciously. "What?"

"You cant – you can't just....ask a guy that!"

"Why not? It's a perfectly natural…"

"Okay, stop. Just stop. Game over."

"No, I want to play now! I answered yours!"

He stared at the steering wheel. "Look. Bones. We're together…a lot. And I think about you all the time, so yeah, you know…if your face happens to slip into my mind at certain _times_, there's nothing I can do about it."

"You think about me all the time?"

"W-professionally, yeah, cause you know, we're partners."

"Hardly seems professional to think of me while you're masturbating."

His eye twitched. "Stop, Bones."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of Bo-"

"OH LOOK THE TOW TRUCK'S HERE!" he bellowed, seeing the truck coming through the rain like a beacon of hope.

"Oh, good!" she commented casually. Booth threw on his rain jacket from the back as he got ready to meet the driver that was running to them from his truck. "Hey Booth?" she asked, watching him do up each snap on the jacket.

"Yeah, Bones?"

The driver was close, almost at the door as he heard her mention casually, "I think about you, too."

*

Loneliness.

He'd been gone for 17 days and roughly…9 hours now. Not that she'd been counting. Off on some ultra secret FBI mission that he'd refused to talk to her about, no matter how many times she'd offered to flash him (though he'd come close to breaking on several occasions), Brennan had missed him more than she'd expected.

His plane from…wherever it was had gotten in late, and so she'd waited until the reasonable hour of 4:45 am before she unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside. The smell of him caused her body to thrill. She'd missed that, too; even though he'd jokingly given her a shirt of his to sleep in while he was away. What he didn't know was that while she'd laughed it off at the time, she'd slept in it every night.

Her heart beating with excitement she stepped into his room. They'd been given a case while he'd been away, and she'd been briefing him over the phone, so naturally she would be remiss if she didn't come over to give him updates as soon as possible. She set the files she'd brought on his nightstand and sank down next to him. "Hey, Booth." She placed an arm on his waist, giving him a little push. He didn't move. "Booth, wake up!"

She reached out to pinch his nose shut and his fingers were around her hand in a flash. She let out a surprised, "Oh!" as he dragged her down by the wrist and flipped her onto her back. Her eyes were wide with shock as he grinned down at her.

"Nice try, Bones. I'm on to you."

She laughed, reaching up to hug him. "Hi, Booth."

He hugged her back before setting her down on his pillows. "Good morning, Bones." He squinted, looking out the window at the dark sky. "Wait, _is_ it morning?"

She shrugged sheepishly. "Yes."

He eyed her. "What time is it?"

She didn't answer and he looked at his clock. "Bones! It's 4:30 in the morning!"

She sat up, defensive. "It is not! It's 4:47!"

He laughed. "Aw, Bones, did you miss me that much that you couldn't wait to see me?"

"Don't be silly, Booth, I came to give you the files for the case," she scoffed, indicating the stack of folders on the nightstand.

He looked at her with a smug grin on his face. "You came here, before the sun, to give me case files?"

"Yes," she answered primly, sniffing.

"Bones."

"Well, I was simply trying to keep you apprised, but fine," she said huffily, sitting up, "if you don't want to be in the loop, suit yourself." She moved to get out of the bed, swinging her legs over the side when his voice stopped her.

"Bones?"

She didn't turn back as she replied, "Yes, Booth?"

She felt him crawling towards her, his breath hot on her neck. "Didn't you miss me at all?"

Her heart constricted. "Yes, Booth," she whispered, "very much."

He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, and she could feel his smile against her skin as he did. "Listen, Bones. Why don't you let me sleep for a few more hours, and then we can go to the diner for breakfast and you can fill me in on all the details. Okay?"

"Yes, alright. Sorry for waking you, Booth," she said softly, turning to look at him.

"Don't be. I'm glad you did. Come on," he encouraged, pulling her back to bed with him. "When we wake up, I'll show you what I got you while I was away."

She settled against him, nuzzling his neck with her nose. "You got me something?"

"Course I did, and it's really cool."

"What is it?"

"You'll see."

"Booth! Tell me!"

"Sorry Bones, no can do. You have to wait."

"What if I flash you?"

"…You can't keep using that on me you know. It isn't fair."

"Fine, I retract my offer."

"Whoa, whoa, Bones, let's not be hasty!"

"You denied me last time anyway," she added.

"Bones! That was national security. And the scary part was I almost breeched it."

She laughed. "Fine. I will only use my powers for good from now on."

"Thank you. Hey Bones?"

"Mm?"

"…Can I see them?"

"Go to sleep, Booth."

"Fine."

"…"

"Hey, Bones?"

"_What?_"

"I missed you too."

*

And now, surprise.

The elevators dinged open cheerfully as she walked onto his floor of the FBI building. Brennan paced the halls to his office quickly, an uncharacteristic spring in her step as she made her way through the maze of glass encased rooms. She rounded the corner to his office, bursting through the door with a mega-watt grin on her face that quickly disappeared as she saw he wasn't there. His desk was empty, and she was just about to turn and check the lunchroom when she heard a soft snore.

She looked over and saw her partner stretched out on his couch, fast asleep with a case file on his chest. He'd kicked off his shoes and his socks, the ones she'd gotten him for Christmas with the skeletons on them, were on display to the entire FBI. She smiled softly and walked forward, running her hand along the outer edge of the sole of his foot.

His leg twitched. She smiled wider and ran two fingers down the middle of his foot this time. He grunted. Suppressing laughter, Brennan tickled the bottom of his feet with her nails. His voice startled her as it cut through the room, "Hey, cut it out, I'm awake!"

She laughed, sitting on the edge of the couch facing him as he moved aside to make more room for her. "Hi, Booth," she beamed.

"Hey, Bones," he answered sleepily. "You look happier than usual. Some old dusty bones from Timbuktu get sent to the lab?

She scowled. "No. And I've been to Timbuktu, it's got a rich history-"

"Of course you have, Bones. So what then?"

"I am going to be a key note speaker at this year's Forensic Anthropology Symposium!" she gushed.

"You're what now?"

"Key note speaker! Can you believe that Booth!?" she asked, nearly vibrating with excitement. "I've been dreaming of this since I was 16, I was surprised to even be considered, but-"

"Why were you surprised? You're the best," he stated.

She colored. "Well, thank you, Booth, but there are a number of other very talented people in my field…"

He waved a hand. "Nah, they're nowhere near your caliber. You think I don't know, Bones? Not that you don't constantly remind me, but it's a well established fact that you're the best in your field."

"Well, that's not always the deciding factor."

He sat up, "What do you mean?"

She shifted, uncomfortable. "It's kind of a popularity contest, in some ways."

He knew she was being serious so he did his best not to laugh. "A popularity contest…consisting of only forensic anthropologists?"

She nodded. "Yes. And in the past I've never really been considered because, well you know I'm not exactly the social type."

"So what changed then?" he asked.

She looked away. "Well. I started working with you. And I must say…our partnership has greatly improved my ability to socialize with other people. I really have you to thank." He shrugged, but inwardly he was touched. "Which is why I was wondering if you'd come with me."

His eyes twinkled. "Bones are you asking me on a _date?" _

She flushed a deep crimson. "What? No! Why…do you want me to?"

He was looking as smug as she'd ever seen him. "Let me get this straight. It's a dinner?"

"Yes."

"And we'd be dressed up?"

"Yes."

"And it has nothing to do with the Jeffersonian or the FBI?"

"No."

"And it would just be the two of us?"

"Yes."

He nodded, "Yeah, Bones, that sounds like a date."

She looked at him. "Well. I can't deny your logic."

He ran a thumb across her lips and she closed her eyes briefly. "No. You can't, can you?"

"You know, you haven't said you'll go yet," she pointed out, the barest traces of apprehension in her features.

"Of course I'm gonna go! Are you kidding? I've got a hot date with the most popular forensic anthropologist I know."

"Booth," she sighed, "I'm the only forensic anthropologist you know."

"Correction," he said, lifting a finger, "the only one I _need_ to know."'

"Well you're about to meet an entire symposium's worth, so be prepared. Who knows you might even find one you like better than me," she suggested.

"No way, Bones. There is no way I could ever like any other forensic anthropologist better than you."

She raised her eyebrows. "You can't possibly know that to be true."

"Sure I can."

"How?"

He winked, infuriatingly charming. "I've seen your breasts."

*

Inebriation.

They were tipsy. No, they were _drunk_. Her laughter filled the cab as he helped her into the back seat, greeting the driver cheerfully. She (after having to think for a moment) told him her address and leaned back in the seat with a sigh. He stared at her as she closed her eyes in happy exhaustion.

She was wearing a beautiful black evening gown, cut in all the right places, her curls swept gracefully back in a loose bun at the base of her neck. A thin, silver chain, trailed across her collarbone, following the plunging neckline of her dress and beyond.

He leaned back in the seat, still watching her, as he sighed, "Wow, Bones. Who knew forensic anthropologists could party so hard? After the boring speeches I mean."

Her eyes opened, a look of hurt flashing across her face. "You think my speech was boring?"

"What? Nah, Bones, not yours. Yours was awesome, I was talking about Dr. Magoo with his coke-bottle glasses."

"His name is Dr. _Mageau, _and it isn't his fault he has vision problems," she said with an irritated air, though he could tell she was biting back a smile.

"No, but I bet he could have helped being so boring, if he'd really wanted to."

She sniffed. "Well, I thought his speech was…" He looked at her. "Fine. It was boring. Are you happy?"

He put his arm around her, drawing her against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, a hand coming out to grip the edge of his jacket. "Are you kidding? I'm the happiest guy in the world. I got to leave with the key note speaker." She smiled against him. "You know, I think every guy in there was jealous of me."

She scoffed, "Booth, stop!"

"No, it's true Bones. They all wanted you. Especially Dr. Magoo."

"Okay, I know you're pronouncing his name incorrectly just to annoy me, so I'm not going to respond."

He laughed and put his arms tighter around her, feeling her settle in against him. Her breath, warm on his neck, came in slower and more even beats. He rested his head on the top of hers and looked out the window, watching the lights of DC fly past. He couldn't remember when he'd felt so good. The warmth of liquor in his veins, memories of a fun night of dancing and laughter, and the woman of his dreams, asleep in his arms. He gave a thankful nod to the Big Guy Upstairs, acknowledging how grateful he would always be for these moments with her.

He could see they were getting close to her apartment now, and he went to wake her. A passed out anthropologist is probably not something the cabbie needed in his back seat. He ran a finger along her cheek and whispered, "Bones, wake up. We're almost at your apartment."

She didn't so much as twitch. "Bones," he shook her gently. Nothing. He sighed, leaning back. If he tried to carry her inside and she found out, he'd be missing a head come morning. His eyes fell on the pale skin of her leg. Her dress had ridden up as she'd stepped into the car, the slit of her dress gaping to expose her milk-white thigh.

He held his breath for a moment, and then got an idea. Smiling he put two fingers on her knee. His eyes on her face, he whispered her name as he slowly began to walk his fingers up her leg. She didn't move.

Over her knee….nothing.

Mid thigh…was that a twitch?

Higher still…a sigh?

His fingers continued to walk, slowly, across her soft flesh, now at her upper thigh. His hand was about to disappear under her dress as it made its way all the way up to…

"Booth!" she gasped, her fingers grasping his wrist just before his hand reached its destination. Her eyes had flown open, glassy with intoxication, or maybe something else. "What are you doing?

He smiled innocently. "Waking you up, Bones."

"That's not what it looks like," she smirked, her hand still holding his in place.

"Well, you're awake now, aren't you?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "That's an interesting technique. I'll have to remember it for future occasions." Her eyes were dark now, glittering in the low light of the cab.

"We're almost at your house," he stuttered, his voice inexplicably an octave higher. He coughed and she smiled wickedly as she reached for her purse. He put a hand on hers, "No, Bones, it's on me."

She scowled, "I don't think so, Booth."

He scowled back playfully. "I do, Bones. Come on, let me be chivalrous, just this once."

She sighed, "But I'm the one that asked you, therefore I should be the chivalrous one."

"No, Bones, it doesn't matter who asked who…you're the _girl_. That's how this works."

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe you could provide me with some sort of written handbook, so I know the 'rules' for next time."

He waggled his eyebrows, "Oh, so there's going to be a next time?"

She growled in frustration, her eyes glinting with laughter. "Look, Bones, you can pay next time, okay? Besides, I got to touch your thigh, it's the least I can do to pay for a cab ride after that."

"Whatever you say, Booth," she sighed. The cab pulled up outside her building and she leaned in close to him. "Just so you know," she said softly, giving him a long kiss on the cheek before whispering in his ear, "I would have let you touch for free."

*

Guilt.

The heart monitors beeped steadily, reminding her that he was still there, that he had made it out alive. This time. Brennan sat in a chair next to his hospital bed, elbows on the mattress as she watched him sleep. Her limbs felt heavy, her stomach weak, with guilt.

Her eyes began to sting as she's thought of his last words to her before they'd entered the suspect's house. "Wait here, Bones. Please."

But she hadn't. She'd been so worried about him that she'd followed him inside, and she'd entered the room where he was apprehending their man as quietly as she could. But it wasn't quietly enough. In the second that he'd glanced up at her, the suspect had taken advantage and elbowed Booth in the solar plexus, sending him flying back where he'd smacked his head on a wall.

The sound still reverberated in her head as she sat there watching him, waiting for him to wake up. He still hadn't opened his eyes since he'd fallen to the ground in that suspect's home. Not even after she'd managed to drop the guy with a roundhouse kick and a swift upper thrust to his nose, cuffing him to a table. Not even after she'd shaken him, calling his name over and over.

Her jaw clenched as she attempted to keep back the tears of guilt that threatened to spill. She took in a ragged breath and clutched her fingers harder around his own. It had been nine hours, and all the doctors had said was, "Wait."

But she was sick of waiting. She had to see his eyes again, had to hear his voice, teasing her, had to have him be the first thing she'd see in the morning as he sat at her bedside with coffee and a smile. She grasped his forearms in desperation, giving him a gentle shake.

"Booth. Wake up." He didn't move and she shook him harder. "I said, wake up dammit! It's me! It's Bones!" She whispered harshly, "Booth, do what I say!" Her fingers were digging into the flesh of his upper arms, and her mind filled with the memory of what he had tasted like as she'd sunk her teeth into him. She thought of bagels, and tickling, truth or dare, and winning lottery tickets, and her chest squeezed with anger and pain.

Panicked, she ripped back the edge of his sheets and put two fingers on his knee. Watching his pale face, she slowly walked her fingers up his leg, hardly daring to breathe. "Come on, Booth," she begged in a whisper. Her fingers reached halfway up his thigh. "Please." And now higher. She let out a soft sob as she'd reached his upper thigh, her fingers about to disappear under his pale green hospital gown.

She was about to break down completely when she felt a strong set of fingers wind around her wrist, stopping her wandering hand. She gasped and looked up, and her partner was staring at her with glittering eyes. "Now I know I must have been hurt, cause any other day, I would never have stopped you," he smiled.

"Booth!" she sobbed, throwing herself on him. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she dared, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. "Booth."

"Hey, hey," he soothed, his arms coming around her tightly, smoothing a hand up and down her back. "It's okay, Bones."

"No it isn't," she breathed, pulling back to look at him with a tear-stained face. "I got you hurt and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you." She pressed her forehead to his, her fingers wrapping around the short hair at the base of his neck as she frantically pressed a kiss to his mouth, twice, then his cheek, then his jaw.

"What are you talking about, Bones?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.

"I didn't listen, I went in even though you told me not to. I let that guy get the upper hand." She sobbed. "I'm sorry."

He pulled her back so he could see her. "Bones, do you think I thought for one second that you'd actually listen to me? I knew I could try, but I was fully aware that you were going to follow me in there. I know you. I know who you are. And that asshole already got the drop on me about a second before you walked into that room."

Her eyes searched his. "Really?"

"Yeah. Of course. You saved me, Bones."

She let out a sigh of relief. "I was so worried about you, Booth."

"I know you were, Bones. But hey, if I had taken longer to wake up, they might have given you a younger, better FBI Agent to work with, so it wouldn't have been all bad," he teased.

She shook her head, running her fingers over his ears as her forehead still rested firmly on his. "No, Booth. You're the only FBI Agent I'd ever want to work with. I wouldn't like any other as much as you."

He smiled, repeating her words from a few weeks ago. "You can't possibly know that to be true."

"Yes, I can," she breathed.

"How?"

She pulled back, her face sliding into a wicked grin. "Because I've seen your…"

*

And finally, love.

He pushed open her front door at 5:42am, and this was after waiting two hours for a "decent time" to see her. He'd been thinking of her more and more, ever since this…habit had started between them. He thought of her before that, it's true, all the time. And he'd loved her for many years now. But this thing they had started between them had opened up a sort of floodgate for his feelings towards her. And now, what he could once control (most of the time, anyway) had started to control him. And he couldn't sleep at night, wondering if she might come by in the morning, hoping that he'd wake to her beautiful face.

He walked into her bedroom and she was sitting there, staring at him. He couldn't read the expression on her face, but it looked like she'd been waiting. For him. He sat down next to her, without a word, and leaned in to kiss her gently on the mouth. She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him back, opening her mouth to him.

He pulled back and she was smiling. He smiled back, kissing her palm that still rested on his cheek. "I've been thinking," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him again.

He kissed her back, mumbling into her mouth, "Big surprise there, Bones."

She smiled against his lips, one of her hands dropping to clutch his collar and pull him against her. "Shush. I've been thinking that (kiss) that it makes much more sense (kiss) you know, logically (kiss) for us to just stay with each other at night."(kiss). She pulled back and he immediately began to leave wet, open mouthed kisses down her throat. "Because –oh, yes, right there, because we're usually going to the same place anyway, and –oh, harder, please, and it would save on time, and –oh, Jesus, Booth, and gas. Don't you agree?"

Booth came back up to kiss her, harder, more passionately this time, and she moaned in his mouth as he pushed her back on the bed. "Yes," he panted, "I agree completely."

He began to unbutton her, no wait, his shirt that she was wearing, and she smirked. "Do you even know what I said?"

He kissed the smirk off her face, "Saving gas?"

"Close enough, Agent Booth," she smiled as he opened her shirt and pulled it off of her, kissing back down her throat and across her chest.

"Oh no," he disagreed as she pulled his own shirt from his back, "not nearly close enough." She laughed and ran her tongue along his jaw.

"Good morning, Booth," she whispered in his ear.

"Good morning, Bones," he whispered back.

*

**Thank you for reading! Please do let me know what you think. - MC**


End file.
